Dale is annoyed by the small crowd of on-lookers that has been attracted by the police activity on the footpath of the main street. He squirms morosely in the back seat of the police car, waiting for his brother to be shoved in beside him.
“Whadda you fuckin’ lookin’ at?” he shouts at me, the white woman with the pram and the alarmed expression. “You think you’re so good?”
I turn away, pretending to ignore his jibes, and begin to wheel the pram off down the street. But Dale’s situation is gnawing at me. Dale and I live in the same town; my boy goes to the same high school as Dale. I know that he comes from the aboriginal settlement on the outskirts of town. I’ve seen the houses out there; overcrowded, smashed windows, no gardens and rubbish strewn everywhere.
It’s only a month since I was in hospital with the new baby and shared a room with Dale’s aunt. In the few days we were together I learned a lot about the Kennedy family and their difficult circumstances. It was a heart-breaking story of discrimination, petty crime, violence, boredom and lack of opportunities. I am sick of standing by and ignoring the injustice of their circumstances.
I phone the police station.
§
Dale is fed up. It only takes a bit of a fight and the police lock him up. He’s been inside now for a week but today he gets to go home.
He’s bored. At school the teachers have given up on him. He’s given up on himself. When he was little he used to have big dreams but reality has worn him down. What’s the point of dreaming? He’s black. He lives in a country town in the middle of nowhere. His dad has gone off somewhere and his mum has to look after him and his six brothers and sisters in a dump.
“What now?” he asks himself as he walks out into the foyer of the police station.
Dale looks up and sees a freshly printed notice on the noticeboard. It’s an invitation for kids, especially aboriginal kids, to sign up for an AFL team that the police are sponsoring.
Dale is excited. It’s an opportunity that’s too good for him to turn down. He loves kicking the footy with his mates but there’s never been a real team to join. He hurries out to tell his brother on the street. Together they return to the foyer and sign up.
§
The feeling of elation and pride has engulfed me all day. Today is the first match for the Dubbo Daredevils. My boy is playing. Not only that. Over the last couple of months at training, he has formed a steadfast friendship with Dale Kennedy and his brother. I can’t wait to go down to the footy grounds. I’ll be there with the Kennedys to cheer them all on. I’ve watched them training and I know they’ll do me proud. I am stirred by having made a difference to the lives of others.
Kerry
25/1/09
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3 comments:
From Rick
Kerry I love your courage. You keep coming out with writings that break new ground. You get into Dale's head and show no fear in talking his talk. “Whadda you fuckin’ lookin’ at?” Wow.
I had a bit of trouble following the flow and continuity. Dale goes from troubled youth to family friend in the blink of an eye. My credibility is strained. I felt that the story needs more flesh and perhaps your story can't be done in our word limit.
You’ve taken a snapshot of a small town beset with the problem of prejudice and stereotyping and getting caught in a rut. Your character is stirred, and takes action, and produces a result we can see and feel through the eyes of the alternative character.
Both characters are clearly developed. I like your “white woman with the pram and the alarmed expression”, and her self-awareness. And your young just-emerging Dale (with perhaps a few more words to ease his transition from bored to excited).
The story literally gave me goose-bumps.
Jenny says
This is a powerful story, showing the fear and distrust in the beginning, and developing something much more. There is definitely room for some development of the intervening process in a longer piece.
The backstory about meeting Dale's aunt is necessary context but doesn't sit comfortably in the story flow, perhaps because it is written in a different style from the visceral and immediate introductory paragraphs. Perhaps a memory of Dale coming to the hospital to visit his aunt, contrasted with the spitfire in the police car, might bridge the gap.
It was ambitious to try to cover Dale's perspective as well as the woman's in just 500 words. You covered an amazing amount of ground, which shows that you are very effective and economical with your writing!
I like the way you have shown that one person can make a difference - believably.
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